


Felicitations

by angelica



Category: Arrow (TV 2012)
Genre: F/M, Five Times, Friendship, Gen, Pre-Relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-11-07
Updated: 2013-11-18
Packaged: 2017-12-31 19:25:10
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 8,049
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1035462
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/angelica/pseuds/angelica
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Five times Oliver uses the window and one time he uses the door.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. i.

i.

The window gives way to him even before he can jimmy it. He enters slowly inside, trying to get used to his surroundings in the dark, making a mental note to warn her against the dangers of unlocked windows. 

The entire place is silent. From where he is standing, he looks around to get his eyes adjusted to the darkness. He almost bumps into the foot of a couch and then tries to find his footing after he almost trips over a discarded slipper. The living room is large, but it feels cramped with all the stacks of books and dvd cases and little trinkets. He wishes he has some light to go through the objects and discover what she is into, but instead he moves to a hallway which he thinks leads to the bedroom. 

The door is already open so he enters and stops. It is quite a sight. She is in bed, her body turned on one side, one arm tucked under one pillow, her head on another. He counts two other pillows thrown on the rug – it is apparent they fell from the bed – and the cover of the bed is half on her and half on the floor. He truly believes he has never seen someone sleep so… all over the place, but is not surprised that Felicity is the one to do so.

Her breathing is low and steady. He wonders how he should go about waking her. He moves around in hope that she would sense a presence in the room, but nothing happens. He opens a drawer then quickly closes it with a thump, realizing it is filled with her underwear; Felicity does not even stir. 

After some ten minutes , just when he is about to give up, he calls out her name.

“Who is there?” she murmurs, rising slowly. Her eyes are closed and she reaches out to the nightstand to locate her glasses. She puts them on blindly. “Oliver, what the fuck?”

Her reaction is not something he expects and it takes him a moment to come up with an answer. “Hey Felicity.” he says. He realizes he is still standing the shadows in his Arrow costume so he steps into the light coming from the window.

“You scared me to death!” she exclaims. She turns on the lamp on the nightstand. “How did you get in?” she asks, then before he could explain, she answers her own question. “You used the window. You do this for a living. Not for a living actually, you get nothing but bruises in return. It is more of a hobby? A hobby with really good results, but I doubt anyone else in the world considers this as a hobby and put it on Facebook. ” she rambles. He does not want to risk being seen in the light, so he steps out and moves back to the hallway. “What brings you here in what I presume is the dead of the night? I thought you had gone home already.”

“I couldn’t find Digg. I called him twice, his phone is off.”

“That is the universal code for do not disturb when you call someone in the middle of the night and they don’t answer.” she chimes in with a mischievous smile. “So is that why you broke into my apartment?”

“You don’t answer when I call after a certain hour.”

“That is because I am sleeping like a normal human-being after a certain hour.” she says, lifting the covers off the floor. Finally, Oliver thinks.

“Like I said, you don’t answer.”

She laughs lightly. Even though he is in the shadows, she catches a glimpse of a smile. “Why do you need Diggle so badly?” she asks. 

“I need to go through tomorrow’s security details.” he answers in his back-to-business tone. 

She looks at the alarm clock. “At 4:21 in the morning?” she raises an eyebrow at him. “Go home and sleep Oliver, you need your energy, we can go over the details later on.”

“Do you know where Digg is? I went to his place but it was empty. His tracker is off, too.” Oliver stalls. 

“You have a tracker on him?” she asks, shocked. Then something else comes to her mind. “You have a tracker for me, too? That is like invasion of privacy, Oliver.”

“I like to keep track on both of you, in case something happens.” he replies, his tone does not change.

Felicity takes a deep breath. “Since I am a terrible assistant, I forgot to give you the memo that Diggle is seeing someone. If his phone is off and he is nowhere to be found, that means he is getting lucky. You know, having sex?” she whispers the ‘sex’ part. Oliver chuckles and the sound makes Felicity happy because it might be the first time she has ever actually heard such a noise coming from him. “And I wasn’t supposed to tell you that. Like I said, I am a terrible assistant.”

“I guess I have to talk to him tomorrow, then.” Oliver offers.

Felicity smiles. “It’s technically today. Go home, Oliver.” Oliver nods. “And use the door.” she blinks and turns off the light. She lies back on the bed, listening intently to hear her front door to close. Instead she hears the slight noise of a window open and close and then the unmistakable sound of an arrow hitting somewhere and she smiles and closes her eyes.


	2. ii.

ii

She opens her eyes slowly and everything is blurry, not that she is unfamiliar with it given her eyesight. Then the headache comes and everything hurts. She squeezes her eyes tightly and wishes the pain away. She tries lifting herself from where she is lying, but every muscle in her body hurts and just the idea of moving sends shockwaves of pain to her brain. 

“Felicity?” She hears a hoarse voice coming from somewhere in the room which she recognizes as Oliver. Ignoring the pain, she lifts herself to a sitting position and through her blurred vision, sees the silhouette of Oliver at the armchair on the corner of her bedroom. 

“Why does it feel like I did a lot of Jägerbombs last night? I promised myself that I wouldn’t touch them again after the last time.” she says, her throat feels dry. She swallows. “Water.” she says and a second later, a glass of water appears before her. She gulps it down and looks up to smile at whom she presumes is Diggle. 

“You gave us quite the scare.” he says. 

“My glasses.” The statement comes out as a question. She closes her eyes in order not to deepen her headache and hears some ruffling in the room. The next moment, the glasses are placed in her palm. Even the simplest act of putting them on pains her. “Please don’t tell me I got drunk and made a fool of myself. I didn’t dance on the bar this time, did I?” Her voice is agitated, she feels like she is pleading. Her entire body is aching, and she cannot remember a single thing from the night before. 

“Nothing like that happened.” Diggle says. She feels the mattress shift under his weight as he sits next to her. 

She waits for an explanation from Diggle but instead hears Oliver. “Your drink was roofied.” She can hear the distinct tone of concern in his voice. “I couldn’t find the bastard who did it, but at least we realized it early on.” 

Even though she is quite shocked, she also feels relieved. The last thing she wants is to have both Oliver and Diggle deal with her when she is drunk, but nothing of the kind happened. It is just some idiot who put a drug in her drink in an attempt to have her unconscious and defenseless. The weight of the situation suddenly hits her and she lifts her hands to cover her mouth. “Nothing happened, right?” she asks immediately. 

“No, Oliver found you alone in the ladies’ room.” Diggle replies. “You looked completely out of it.” 

“Thank you.” she whispers, looking at both of them. She does not even want to think what would have happened if… She does not even want to think about the possibilities, let alone the consequences. She is just grateful for the two men in her life, and in her bedroom. When she realizes that they are all in her bedroom, she unconsciously touches herself under the covers and realizes that she is wearing her worn out MIT shirt and not the dress she had on last night. She sighs in relief. 

“You were unconscious for a while, we had to get the drug out of your system.” Diggle adds. 

Her eyes grow larger. “You did not make me vomit, did you? I am going to throw myself off the clock tower if you did that.” 

It gets a laugh out of John. “Oliver gave you some of his magic herbs, you slept through it.”

“Oh, thank god.” she says. “John, could you get me some painkillers? They are in the box on top of the fridge.” Given her current state, she figures that Oliver’s magic herbs can cure anything but a terrible hangover. 

“I’m sorry, Felicity.” Oliver says as he walks up to stand next to her. “I should have looked out for you.” 

The sincerity in his voice warms her heart and eases the physical pain. She looks up at him. “No need to apologize, it wasn’t your fault. You cannot stop sleazy douchebags being sleazy douchebags.” She thinks she sees him smile, but her mind and vision are still fuzzy and they both turn to Diggle shouting from the kitchen, announcing he made coffee and the moment is gone. 

“Did you sleep on the armchair?” she asks quietly, having noticed that he is still in his Arrow costume minus the paint, before he makes a move to go to the kitchen. He just nods and goes. He comes back a minute later holding two mugs and hands one to her.

“Felicity, I have to go.” Diggle says, appearing behind Oliver. He hands her the box of painkillers and another glass of water. “Call me if you need anything. Anything at all.”

“Thank you so much for everything, John.” she says after taking a pill. He puts a hand on her hair and leaves a chaste kiss on her forehead. On his way out, he puts a hand on Oliver’s shoulder and they give each other a knowing nod that she knows nothing about. Oliver sits back at the armchair while she remains in the same position.

“What exactly happened?” she asks, looking at him from the brim of the coffee mug, glad that the pain is dissipating with the painkiller working. 

“I was out, it was a quiet night. John told me that the two of you were upstairs at the club. The next thing I know, he calls me saying the place is empty and you are nowhere to be found. He apparently did not think of the ladies’ room.” He takes a sip from his coffee. “You were sitting on the floor in one of the stalls, looking pale with an empty glass in your lap. I gave you some of the herbs and brought you here.”

“And I assume you did not use the window?”

“John brought you upstairs and let me in through the window.” he answers. “You were able to dress yourself and go to sleep.”

She is glad that she dressed herself and nothing awkward happened. “And you slept on the armchair?” she asks again and he nods. “I am sorry, it probably isn’t the most comfortable thing.”

“I have had way worse.” he offers and she has the inclination to take the chance to ask him about the island but decides against it given the night they both had. 

“Thank you, Oliver.” Her voice is earnest, she looks directly at him. He looks down instead. She wants to tell him how grateful she is to him for saving her life, for what seems to be the millionth time, that she appreciates his help, his strength, his concern and most importantly, his friendship, but instead she gets up and makes her way to the bathroom, only a second later silently cursing her roofied self for forgetting to wear something under her MIT shirt.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> here is another chapter! thanks for all the feedback, it's incredible!


	3. iii.

iii.

He is already at the opposite roof before he even realizes why he is there. It feels like his feet have a mind of their own. He looks down at the street below him, wondering if he can make the jump. He knows that the living room has the street view and he used it twice before, but the night is still young and there are people awake still and he does not want the risk of being seeing when he is entering through the window. It is the top floor but the building has only seven floors and there are other buildings towering over it. He opts for the bedroom window he can easily enter using the fire escape which he knows goes down the alleyway. 

He jumps to the next rooftop and now has easier access. He takes a few steps back to ensure he has momentum and runs. He leaps, hangs in the air for a few second, and then lands on the opposite building’s rooftop. It takes him less effort to jump to the fire escape. 

He expects the window to be locked, like he had advised her to, but instead he finds it open all the way up, curtains moving with the breeze of the night. He had always loved that light breeze of Starling City that made summer nights bearable, it was something he missed on the island. That humidity could use some breeze. 

In an attempt to minimize the amount of noise he would make, he opts to take out his shoes. He extends out one leg inside, only to step on something sharp and he jumps and hits his head on the window. He curses under his breath. 

“Oliver?” he hears her voice coming from inside. He takes his leg back and examines his foot. There is a piece of a lego embedded, it falls from his feet and through the spaces of the fire escape down to the alleyway. He wonders about the last time he saw a lego or why would Felicity own any. 

She comes to the window and extends her torso out. “Oliver, are you okay?” she asks, her hair ruffled. 

“What the hell, Felicity?” he asks her. 

“I can ask the same to you.” she instead responds. “Come inside, I moved them.” she says before disappearing inside. 

He follows suit and enters her bedroom, his sole still wincing. It is dark, her bed covers are on the floor which does not surprise him. He sees that she moved the legos aside. He lifts his hood and leaves the quiver and his shoes by the armchair he slept on a few days ago. 

“I’m sorry about that. Are you okay?” she asks, putting a hand on his shoulder. She looks worried behind her glasses.

“It’s nothing.” His response is quick. “I thought I warned you against the dangers of leaving your windows unlocked.” 

She sits on the bed. He tries his best not to look at her since she is only wearing some really short shorts and a tank top. She sighs. “It’s May, Oliver. It’s hot.” she simply mutters. “Just because you refuse to take off your leather pants and jackets to go arrowing doesn’t mean that I am that tolerant to heat. I mean, you are right, it would be stupid. Imagine going around the city in only the hood to make it more convenient for you in this heat. Someone would see your naked arms and recognize your sexy biceps. I would.” she continues, but then stops herself and bites her lips. “You know what I mean.” 

“Don’t you have air-conditioning?” he inquires instead, trying not to decipher what she says. 

“I do but I can’t sleep with it on, otherwise I get sick in the morning, thanks to my lovely sinuses.” she answers. “Air is way better.” They look at each other in the darkness. It is quiet, it feels like the world outside is quieting down. He can hear her breathe. “What are you doing here, Oliver? I didn’t know you were doing house-calls.” 

He starts wearing his shoes. “I just wanted to make sure you were okay. You left early.”

“Because you told me to.” He can detect the annoyance in her voice. He knows that he cannot explain why he is checking up on her in the middle of the night when he knows she would be asleep, because he does not exactly know why. He just wanted to see her, to make sure she was safe.

“That’s true.” he says sheepishly. “Just wanted to make sure you were okay.”

“As you can see I am okay and well-prepared against intruders.” she tells him, sounding proud of herself. 

“With legos?” He is skeptical.

She laughs. “Make fun as you like, but they did stop you.” He cannot help but agree. “And you are the only one I know who breaks into my apartment using the window. Not that there are any other people I know breaking into my apartment, or anyone else breaking in. And I don’t mind you breaking into my apartment.” She again rambles, which he finds endearing. “Okay, I am going to stop saying breaking in.”

He picks up his quiver and stands up. “I’ll let you go back to sleep. Just be careful, okay?” he asks of her in all his honesty, heading towards the window.

“You could just use the door like a normal person, you know?” she calls after him.

He smiles. “Good night, Felicity.” he says, exiting the apartment. He climbs the fire escape up to the roof and then jumps to the next building. Two minutes later when he is out in the clear on the opposite side of the street, he looks down and sees her still at the window with her hair blowing in the breeze. He smiles to himself, turns away and runs into the night.


	4. iv.

iv.

She shuffles in bed, trying to ignore the noise. It is a persistent, rather annoying sound and she wonders what is happening in her semi-conscious state. She thinks she hears it in her dream, too. A muffled sound that vaguely resembles her name being called out wakes her up in the end. 

She rises slowly and locates her glasses on the night stand. She looks around, at first unable to figure out what the noise is or where it is coming from. Then she sees a shadow and hears a subsequent knock on the window. 

Her body immediately reacts and she rushes to the window, unlocks it and lifts it up. The storm she slept through is still ongoing, raindrops immediately hit her in the face even though her window only looks at a small alleyway and has a small clearing.

An actual knock, she thinks to herself. “Come on in.” she calls out, not bothering with small talk. She steps back and he steps in, dripping. Before any of them say anything, she goes to the bathroom while he closes the window, albeit in difficulty. She picks up the towels on the rack in haste, along with her pink bathrobe and brings them to Oliver who is seated in the usual armchair that she thinks he is quite fond of. 

“Thanks.” he murmurs and runs one small towel on his face and hair. 

“Are you okay? What happened?” she asks as she stands in front of him. She throws one towel on the floor to cover the rainwater and the rest on her bed. She sees that he holds one shoulder with his other hand and there is pain in his face where the green paint has already washed off. 

“I’m okay, it’s just raining too hard.” 

Even though she woke up a couple of minutes ago and she is still sleepy, she sees through the lie. “And Windows Vista was the best thing out there.” she comments, sarcastically. “What happened?” she repeats. 

“I was to go to the Foundry, but your apartment was closer.” he says as he winces in pain. “I dislocated my shoulder.” 

She scrunches her face, an imitation of the look of pain in his face. “How?” she asks, taking the towel from his hand to help him out, given the amount of pain he is in. She holds the two ends of the towel and rubs it against his hair in an attempt to dry it. 

“I slipped and fell.” he replies. It is the basic truth, she knows she won’t be able to get any other information out of him. 

“Let me take a look.” she says, dropping the now wet towel on the floor. Oliver looks up at her, giving her his puppy-eyes that does not actually resemble a puppy look. It is just his usual way of showing some emotion, which she thinks is quite rare.  


He gets on his feet and she unzips the hood and helps him take it off by peeling off each sleeve carefully, ignoring their proximity, and then going behind him to remove it completely. He keeps wincing in pain and each time he does, she takes a sharp breath as if his pain is hers. His usual still standing broad shoulders look rather strange given the dislocation. 

Once he is left in his soaked henley shirt, she motions him to sit down. “I know this only from Youtube.” she announces before grabbing his arm. She hesitantly moves and stand between his legs, ready to make the move.

“Wait.” He puts his hand on her wrist to stop her. “Can you grab me some water first?” 

She nods and runs to the kitchen. She grabs a bottle from the fridge, trying not to lose any time with pitchers and glasses and just before she enters the room, she hears a crackle and a small hiss. She drops the bottle and runs back to the bedroom, only to find Oliver standing up with both shoulders intact. 

“What did you do?” she asks, horrified. 

“This has happened a lot.” he shrugs, which does not seem to be the best idea since a momentarily pain hits him again. “I’m fine, Felicity.” 

“Geez, sorry for being concerned for you.” She is annoyed. She places both hands on her hips. “I am offended that you went behind my back. You didn’t trust me with your shoulder? I am a medical expert now, all thanks to you. Not that I don’t mind, medical knowledge is really important and can save a life one day, and I am pretty sure it is going to be yours soon. I am not really looking forward to that day. ” 

“It’s a minor dislocation, it really is nothing.” he insists. “You were giving me your about-to-hack face, I didn’t want you to get worse.” 

Even though she does not want to show it, she is actually glad that she did not have to locate his shoulder back. “Fine.” She gives in. “Take off your clothes.” He gives her a blank stare. “You are soaked from head to toe, Oliver and you are dripping on my carpet.” 

She moves around him and goes to her bed and picks up the towels with her back turned to him. She gives him a minute before turning and when she does, he is standing in front of her in his boxer briefs. She tries to play cool and not look at him. As a precaution, she simply throws her pink robe to him. 

“What am I supposed to do with this?” he asks, confused. 

“Put it on, it’ll help you dry.” she simply says and sits on the bed and waits while he just looks at the robe and then to her, baffled. “Oliver, stop being sexist and put my pink bathrobe on.” 

Knowing she is serious, he puts on the bathrobe in all his reluctance, careful not to hurt his shoulder. He looks ridiculous given the robe is several sizes too small and really short on him, but she thinks it is the best way for him to dry and the best way for her to find him unattractive, though it still is hard to do so. The robe shows off his legs, which is a sight she is not used to seeing often. She gulps and readies herself mentally for what she has to say next. 

“And now go to bed.” 

She wishes she had a camera or at least her phone handy to capture the look on his face. He tilts his head, a ghost of a smile on his lips, and just stares at her, as if thinking ‘are you serious?’ “Felicity,” he begins to protest.

“Oliver, it is still raining and you, what, ran here?” she asks and he nods. “I doubt you’d want to ride in a taxi in your costume. And I am sorry but I am too lazy to drive you to the mansion and drive back here.”

“At least let me sleep on the couch.” he offers.

“You just re-located your dislocated shoulder back to its location, I am not letting you sleep on the couch.” she tells him. “I am too tired to sleep there myself. Don’t be such a prude, we are both adults here.” He scoffs and with his head shows her t-shirt with cupcakes on it. She just ignores him. “You didn’t let me play doctor with you properly so I am doing it now. And that doesn’t mean what it actually means. I just want you to rest. Come on.” She fakes a yawn and lifts the covers from the floor and puts them on the bed. She takes the right side and he walks to the left side.

He is the first one to get under the covers. She sits on the edge and before taking her glasses off, she instead goes to the kitchen, grabs another bottle of water and picks up the one she dropped on the floor and comes back to the bedroom. She hands one to Oliver and gets under the covers. They both sit with their backs resting on the headboard, the covers lifted up to their necks for a moment. He drinks some of the water while she takes off her glasses. 

“Good night, Oliver.” she says as she turns her back to him and settles in.

“Good night Felicity.” She hears him say as he moves. “Thank you.” he whispers.

She listens as his breathing slows and becomes steady, then closes her eyes and is asleep within minutes.

In the morning when she wakes up, her room is bright with sunlight beaming in from the living room. He is long gone, the only evidence of him ever being there is the pink bathrobe carefully folded and placed on the armchair.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading!


	5. v.

v.

He arrives at the window and finds it closed, but unlocked. He feels like she leaves it unlocked on purpose, just to spite him. He sees his reflection on the window before he lifts it up to enter inside, just after making sure there are no legos on the floor. There are none. He finds the room dark and empty, but a faint light is coming from the living room. 

He walks towards the living room in his careful, slow steps and finds the TV on, providing the only source of light in the apartment. Felicity is sitting at the couch opposite to the TV, her back turned to him. 

“Hi, Oliver.” she calls out, not moving from her position. He walks and aligns with her, but she does not even bother to look away from the TV. He looks at what she is watching and while it looks familiar, he does not recognize it. She keeps picking up pop-corn from the bowl on her lap, sitting cross-legged, her eyes transfixed on the screen. He takes his quiver off and places it by the couch and just stands. Another minute passes and she is still in the same position, not acknowledging his presence. 

He is confused not only because she is ignoring her with whatever is on the TV, but also because he was expecting a snarky comment about his entry into her apartment, but she says nothing. He decides the best plan of action is to just sit down. He takes his hood off and rather collapses on the other end of the couch. 

She eventually hands the bowl of popcorn to him, still not looking away from the TV, and he grabs a handful. He hardly remembers the last time he had popcorn. It is saltier than he expects. 

He decides to go along and starts watching whatever she is watching like she is hypnotized. It doesn’t take him long to figure out that it is that old show he used to watch with Tommy, ‘Lost’ but he does not know most of the characters. He smiles, thinking about what she said when she was roofied. His subsequent snicker is what finally diverts her attention to him. 

“What?” she asks, looking at him for the first time. Her hair is in a messy ponytail, she is wearing a pink robe similar to the one she had made him wear, but what baffles him is that she is not wearing her glasses and there are tears in her eyes. 

“Are you okay? What happened?” He does not know how to react so he simply scoots over to her. 

She reaches for the remote control on the coffee table and hits a button and the screen goes dark, so does the room. “I’m fine.” she brushes over his question and wipes her eyes with the backs of her hands. She then stands up, looking down at him. “Let’s go to bed.” 

He is rather confused because she is sad and he does not know what to do about it, she is ignoring it and instead is suggesting that they should go to sleep. Not wanting to argue, he silently follows her into the bathroom. “Felicity, you know you can talk to me about anything.” He tries to remind of his one promise to her, he would always be there to listen to her no matter what. He hopes that after all this time together, he has her trust. 

“It’s just that…” she starts, but pauses. She giggles lightly, which he finds strange because just a minute ago she was crying. “It really is stupid, you don’t have to worry about it.” He tries insisting, but instead she grabs his arm and leads him to the bathroom. “Sit down there.” she motions the closed toilet seat. 

He is still confused and just settles to watch her move in her familiar environment. He realizes that despite being in the apartment several times before, this is the first time he has been in the bathroom. It feels homey. She reaches to something at the top shelf of the medicine cabinet on her toes then leans down to grab something from the drawer beneath the sink. 

“Here.” she says as she dabs something on a cotton-ball. She tilts his head up to face her, then with her fingertips, she closes his eyes and rubs the cotton. He listens to her movements and her breathing, finally realizing that she is removing the paint on his face for him as he is still in his costume. 

“It is camouflage paint, you know that right?” he asks. 

She doesn’t reply, instead a minute later she whispers slowly. “Better.” 

He opens his eyes and stands. He looks at himself at the mirror. The paint is gone. They stand in front of the mirror together side by side, he towers her. Through the reflection, he looks at her who is looking back at him with a smile. “Thanks.” She starts laughing as they continue their eye contact through the mirror. The corners of his mouth rise. “What’s so funny?”

“I just wiped off your paint with my make-up remover. In my bathroom.” She continues laughing. “I just wiped off Oliver Queen’s make-up.”

“It is camouflage paint.” he repeats himself, unable to contain his laughter, which is something quite rare for him. “You do have a good make-up remover, though. It is tough to take off that paint.”

“It is water-proof strength remover, can take off anything. Surprisingly it is useless against water-proof mascara, but those things are just evil, I don’t understand why we women do that to ourselves.” she says, then stops. “This is so awkward.” she blurts out. Oliver cannot help but nod in agreement. “Let’s sleep.”

They enter the bedroom and take their sides of the bed in an unspoken agreement. Felicity goes to the kitchen to get some water while Oliver takes off his costume and is left with his shirt and boxer briefs. She hands him a bottle, takes off her robe and glasses and in unison they get under the covers. 

He wonders why he is so compliant with the arrangement given that his initial reason to visit her apartment was his concern for her safety, but then remembers the other time they slept next to one another and how peaceful that sleep had been. For the first time since his initial return from the island, he was able to fall asleep in a matter of minutes and no nightmares woke him up in sweat. 

“Why were you crying earlier?” he whispers into the darkness.

She turns to him with her arm under the pillow. “It’s just… it’s the series finale of ‘Lost’, it happened three years ago and I watched it more than ten times already but it still kills me every time.” she starts. “You would understand if you watched it, but I am not going to spoil it for you since you were on the island when it happened.”

“Okay.” he simply says and tilts his head towards her. “Goodnight Felicity.” he says.

He recalls the Felicity sleeping when her drink was roofied and compares it with the one right now. The current one, he thinks, is how she usually sleeps given the first time he saw her sleeping and all the other times when he found the covers and pillows on the floor. Her one leg is hooked with his, her one arm is crossed over his chest, the other is dangling from her side of the bed and her head is on his pillow, right where his neck meets his shoulder. When she breathes out, it tickles his neck. He is pretty sure she is drooling on his shoulder. He concludes that he does not mind it, not one bit at all.

He lies without moving in order not to wake her up and looks at her from the corner of his eyes. Her face is serene, her hair is messy, she looks much younger than she is. He does not know what time it is, but he figures it is a little later than nine. He tries to remember the last time he was able to sleep past seven in the morning and draws a blank.

He continues looking at her, the sheer sight of her sleeping in that peaceful state brings him a happiness he cannot explain. As if sensing him staring, she slowly opens her eyes and jerks away when she realizes where she is lying on. “Was I just drooling on your shoulder?”

“It’s fine.” he says with a smile.

She moves away from him, pulls herself into a sitting position. “I’m sorry, it’s been a while since I slept with someone. I mean, slept next to someone. And truth be told, slept with someone. It’s not because I am a prude or anything, I just didn’t have the time. Or found the person. Not that I’ve been looking for. I mean, I would if I was looking for casual sex. I am not that much of a one-night stand girl.” she pauses and closes her eyes. “3… 2…1.”

“It is okay, Felicity, it really is.” he reassures her in all his sincerity. “Good morning.” Even though she is away from her, he cannot help but notice the fact that their legs are still touching each other under the covers. “I’ll go make breakfast.” He leaps out of the bed and goes to the kitchen. He checks the fridge first, finds some eggs and bread and milk, then he locates the pots and pans and gets to work.

“Oliver, if you burn down my kitchen trying to boil water, I’ll find your old yearbooks and use them against you.” she calls out to him and he turns around to find her already seated on one of the stools at the breakfast bar. 

When he serves her plate and hands her a mug of fresh coffee, the look on her face is priceless. He knows what she is going to ask before she asks it, so he takes the liberty of answering. “I dated a chef briefly. She knew her breakfast food and taught me a lot. It turned out to be a useless skill on the island, but I never quite forgot how to make French toast.” 

“This is so good.” she says between bites. “From now on, you are preparing the breakfast. I am not trying to insinuate anything by that. ”

He grabs a fork and starts eating, standing opposite to her and gives her a genuine smile knowing that he is having the best morning he has had in a long while.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for the comments! Hope you enjoy this as much as I write it!


	6. i.

i.  
She leaves not just her bedroom window, but all the windows open on purpose. She knows that she will hear his lecture for the millionth time, and that it won’t be the last time she’ll listen to the dangers of leaving windows open. 

By now she knows they have established a certain routine; he comes to her apartment an hour after leaving the Foundry and her heart skips several beats when she first hears his careful movements outside her window and then him climbing in. Depending on the night, he either takes the living room window or the bedroom, still in his costume, she helps him take off the paint and he either watches her as she finishes an episode of a TV show or they just climb into bed together. They do not talk much. Most mornings she wakes up alone. The mornings when she wakes up and he is there are the best and are usually followed by him preparing breakfast for the two of them. 

It is like a dance they do all summer. She does not know what exactly they are doing though. They still work together. She is still his assistant for their day job and his tech guru though she prefers to be called the voice of reason for their night job. Their time outside work is something they do not mention during the day. She is just a girl who has a guy climbing into her window and into her bed almost every night. She knows that despite the ambiguity of the situation, she would never change their routine. 

She sits in the darkness of her living room. It is late in summer and the first chill of fall is in the air. She reaches and pulls the throw blanket on herself. Her ears listen intently to the noises outside. It is the usual Starling City noises with horns blasting and sirens, but the one particular noise she waits for does not come.

She gets up and starts pacing around the room, going to the window to look outside, looks up to the familiar rooftops in search of a shadowy figure but nobody is out there. The city is alive and only her lights seem to be turned off. She sighs in defeat and closes the window, locking it and double checking to make sure it is secure. She drops the throw back to its place on the arm of the couch and goes to her room to grab her robe and closes that window, too. 

She decides she will go to bed despite the hour being much earlier than her usual sleep time, unsure how she would actually be able to sleep with the absence of the body she has grown accustomed to. She enters the bathroom and clears her make-up, upset that she will not be helping with Oliver’s face-paint for the first time in what feels like ages.

She settles down in her bed and tucks the covers around her body to feel warm when she hears a knock. She puts her glasses back on and runs to the window. She opens it and extends her torso out but sees nobody. Confused, she gets back in tries with the living room window. Nobody is out there. She hears the knock again. It takes her a while to acknowledge that the knock is coming from her apartment door. She rushes to it and looks through the peephole and her eyes widen in surprise. Oliver Queen is standing on the other side. He is at her door and he is not in costume. 

She opens the door, her mind clouded in uncertainty. “Is everything okay?” she breaths out once they come eye to eye. 

“Hello to you too, Felicity.” Oliver instead says, with a hint on sarcasm in his voice. “May I come in?”

Wordlessly she steps backwards and lets him in. Realizing that it is still dark inside her apartment, she turns on the lamp closest to her. “You actually used the door.” she says as she stands by the wall, examining him. He is carrying two paper bags, is dressed in jeans and a hoodie which is an attire she is not that used to seeing on him.

“I thought it was high time I did that.” He looks at her and she sees him smile. She tries her best to hide the surprise that has been constant since she heard the knock on the door. “I brought goodies.” he says as he puts down the bags on the couch and starting emptying the contents. “Burgers, courtesy of Big Belly. Red wine, courtesy of Queen Vineyards.”

“You own a vineyard?” she asks as she picks up the bottle of red wine. “Why haven’t I ever heard of this before?”

“It was my dad’s. We don’t sell the wine, we just produce it for personal use.” He pauses and notices the quizzical expression on her face. “What?”

“What are you doing, Oliver?” she asks finally, unable to sustain her curiosity any further. After almost five months of sleeping in the same bed in an unspoken arrangement, in which any other activity included him watching her finish up an episode, he shows up one night on her doorstep where she is sure he never been to before with food, wine and a smile. She wonders what has changed. 

He is baffled with the directness of her question. “Can’t I bring you food and wine?” 

“You never used my door before even though I asked you to a million times.” she states. 

“I know.” he acknowledges without hesitation. “It’s just… I remembered that Tommy and I used to watch ‘Lost’ together and I know that you love it, too. I didn’t watch after season 3 since I got lost on an island myself.”

She thinks that while she was confused before, this time everything he says is beyond her comprehension. “And that made you think I needed food?”

“It’s Tommy birthday.” he whispers. “Was.” he corrects.

“Oliver, I’m so sorry.” She walks towards him in quick steps and hesitantly puts her arms around his waist and lays her head on his chest. He is rigid for a few seconds, surprised by her action, then she feels him relax and wrap his arms around her shoulders. They hold one another in the same position for several minutes, then she breaks it. “The burgers are going to get cold and useless.” She feels his eyes on her as she goes to the kitchen to grab a corkscrew, glasses and napkins.

“I was looking for a Blockbuster to rent out ‘Lost’ but couldn’t find any.”

“We need to refresh your current events knowledge.” She smirks at him. “They went bankrupt.”

“Oh.” He is surprised. “I bought seasons 4 through 6.” he says as he takes out the DVD boxes. 

She hands him the corkscrew and the bottle for him to open the wine and holds the glasses for him to pour. “I have Netflix, you shouldn’t have bought them.”

“I won’t pretend I know what that is.” he says as he raises his glass.

“To Tommy.” she offers, looking into his eyes. Seeing the pain there breaks her heart. She wonders what would have happened if Tommy was still alive. She imagines he would throw one big party at Verdant to which she would be invited but probably would not go. She also wonders if she and Oliver would be as close as they are now. She thinks that he would be happier and not so much guilt-ridden if Tommy was still alive, which she wants for him even if that would mean not being his close friend. She decides it is not the best time to think about probabilities. 

“To Tommy.” he repeats and clinks his glass with hers, never taking his eyes off her. 

“Wow, this is good.” she mentions the wine and she takes Season 4, rips it open and puts it into the DVD player while Oliver takes out the burgers and makes himself comfortable on the couch. “You are aware that there are more than 50 episodes you haven’t watched?” 

“I didn’t mean we should finish the entire thing now. We can just start now and see how it goes.”

She nods, hits play and takes a bite of her burger. She cannot help but notice that he has ordered what she likes the most. They watch the show without talking. Before she knows it, they are already on the fifth episode of the season, which happens to be her favorite of the show with the finale being a close second. Their food is already gone, the empty bottle of wine sits between them on the couch. 

She thinks that Oliver would ask her to explain what is going on as the episode is one of the most confusing ones of the show, but he does not say anything, he is transfixed with the screen as much as she is. Even though she has watched the episode several times before, she is an emotional mess when the scene between Penny and Desmond unfolds. She takes off her glasses and accepts with a smile as Oliver hands a napkin. “Thanks.” she mutters shyly.

“You are my constant.” It comes as a whisper. She is not sure whether she heard him correctly so turns to his direction and finds him looking at her. 

Even without him telling anything else, she knows what he means and what it entails. Before he continues, she immediately replies. “And you are mine.” They continue looking at one another. She hopes that she is not blushing under his stare, but she does not. He gives her a crooked smile.

“Let’s go to bed.” Oliver suggests given that after almost five hours of watching the show, both of them are exhausted both physically and mentally. They fall into their routine though this time he does not have any paint for her to remove and climb into bed together. Unlike other times, Oliver reaches out and pulls her closer and wraps his arm around her waist so that her head is resting on his chest. “Good night, Felicity.” he says. “Thank you.” he adds.

She smiles despite herself. Relaxed and warm, she replies. “You are welcome. Good night.” The last thing she feels before she falls asleep is his lips on her forehead.

THE END.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> According to Arrow wiki, Tommy was born in sometime in February but I don’t remember it ever being brought up in the show so for the purposes of this story, I took some liberties. You guys have been awesome, thank you so much for all your nice reviews! It was a blast writing this.

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first Arrow fic because these idiots are ruining my life! Please do comment if you read!


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